Ghost
by A-Chan
Summary: The ghost of you, it keeps me awake. / Ezekiel Jones deals with the aftermath of all he experienced. The past never wins, no matter how hard it tries to take him alive. Post-The Point of Salvation.


**Disclaimer** : This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Dean Devlin, TNT, and others. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Respects to Ella Henderson for song lyrics of Ghost.

 **A/N** : My first Librarians fic I ever wrote! Here is the fic I mentioned in _Savior_. Sorry it took awhile to upload this but I was kind of stumped on how to edit it (because it needed some editing). This song was just perfect for it and bam! I had a title AND motivation to finish it. Most of the content from the original draft is still here with a couple of additions.

I had so many feels over this episode that it kept me up. I will read any fic about this episode because there is so much that was going on in it. Also, even though I knew I was supposed to be prepared for tears on Ezekiel Jones' behalf, I still bawled my eyes out during the majority of the episode. You could just feel and imagine everything - what did he tell them, what did they tell him? Was he able to reveal parts of his true self, his past, to them? And Baird knew he had the look of PTSD. Cassandra knew how heart broken he looked, how his soul was crushed by not being able to save them. People that used to be good acquaintances, to friends, to family. It was just so much, so I needed to get it out.

Also, I think that if this one episode of Jones alone was this intense, I can't imagine how deep and big his backstory/past will be like. So there is hope.

* * *

 **Ghost  
**  
"And at most I'm sleeping all these demons away,

But your ghost, the ghost of you,

It keeps me awake..."

 **Ella Henderson, _Ghost_**

They come to him in dreams.

During the day, it is easy to separate the memories from reality. From the authoritative voice of Colonel Baird to Cassandra doing her mental calculations at warp speed. To Stone's quirky quips at him and Jenkins' passive, stoic, caring of him. He can hear, feel, _smell_ that they're alive, breathing, out in the open world where he could see most possibilities happening.

But nighttime, the specters roam: their faces, their palpable fear, confusion, their screams while being torn apart, ripped out from the inside - _help us, only you can save us_ \- the carnage, the blood, oh god the blood was so much (seconds on an infinite loop, of seeing them die in so many ways) and -

Then he remembers why in some of those loops it was easier to bear the pain: the pain of dying so many deaths of ripping apart by the seams (zombie movies will never be the same), of the scalding burns of the pipe. Sometimes, the pains were too hard to bear and not more than once did he try to end it. First, as a theory, but then as a reprieve, as a hope it would all end, that it was a never ending nightmare that was in his mind or someone else's, that it was all too much for one person to handle.

Most nights he can catch himself, shake out the dreams. Sometimes his screams are soundless, sometimes it's just tears. Many nights, the pillow over his head blocks the noise from his mouth.

He takes his time to breathe, to recollect himself of the truth. What if he had been wrong? What if everything he did was for nothing? No, he had to remember that he fought, that he has always fought, and no one was going to bring him down. But his own reassurances never calm him after the dreams, after the physiological sensations override his mind.

It is then he remembers when the annex needed a security update, he secretly installed cameras that could be accessed remotely. They never used it because some magic users they encountered could charm the feed, making it unreliable at best. But it was a safety measure nonetheless.

He taps his phone and watches them asleep. Watches the rise and fall of their chests, content they're safe and alive. It helps him sleep most nights.

There are moments that Jenkins looks at him from time to time - as if he sees something the rest aren't. Maybe he knows he's bluffing. Maybe he knows that he, Ezekiel Jones, bore the weight of all his friends' deaths and knew them so intimately, inside and out, that they were one and the same. Blood and family.

But he doesn't acknowledge it or tell Jenkins he knows.

(Maybe that's Jenkins' way of saying he has his back and is watching over him.)

Most days he just tries to forget and just breathe.

Because he's Ezekiel Jones.

He's not going to let demons from the past win.

(Because he's never let it win so far and today he's still winning.)


End file.
